


to love is to know loss

by blue--phantom (twilightscribe)



Series: and comes the storm [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Stormblood Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 22:32:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11610300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightscribe/pseuds/blue--phantom
Summary: In the aftermath of yet another sacrifice, Wyn mourns.





	to love is to know loss

Wyn sucks in a deep breath, his eyes burning.

His shoulders are trembling and Wyn cannot look away from the crumbled ruins of what once was Doma Castle. It’s difficult to believe that only a short time ago, he was standing in that very building, fighting for his life alongside his companions. And now…

His vision blurs. He blinks back the tears, lips trembling as he presses them tightly together.

Mourning will have to come later, when there is time.

But by the gods, does it _hurt_.

Strangely, things continue to move, when they should have come to a halt. Wyn himself feels more like a golem – or one of those puppets that children are so fond of. Marionettes, he remembers with a sudden burst of clarity. Only his strings have been cut; he moves with strange, jerking movements, unsure of what to do now.

Certainly, the day has been won. Doma is free. But at what cost?

The victory feels hollow; the world strangely empty with Gosetsu’s large presence no longer there to fill it.

Wyn hears Yugiri, but finds his voice lodged tightly in his throat. What could he possibly say to Hien? From their long conversations, Gosetsu was like a second father to him; there is no replacing that, and any words that Wyn could speak would sound hollow. Balling his hands into fists, Wyn fights back the trembling and swallows down his own pain.

Now is not the time.

Nor is it the time when they make their way to the Doman enclave, where Hien finds the words that need to be said, despite the pain he must obviously be in. But Hien is strong; he will overcome this, he will be made stronger for it. Wyn has to believe it, or else he… he…

His vision blurs dangerously again. _It isn’t fair_.

It feels much like… like Haurchefant all over again. It’s not fair. The cost of having won is too great and Wyn is increasingly finding the weight of it all too much to bear. He has lost too many dear friends, too much and he…

He does not know how much more he can bear.

Blindly, he follows the other Scions, nodding silently in assent where need be. He doesn’t feel like talking much. The pain is still too raw, his throat sore and his eyes burning. But for Lyse and Alphinaud and Alisae, he must be strong. His own pain – his mourning for the loss of another dear friend – must wait until he’s alone once more.

Then, and only then, can he let himself feel as small as he does.

Slipping away in the dark of night feels cowardly, but Wyn prefers it to having to suffer through the victory celebrations that are likely to last the night. Needless to say, he hardly feels like celebrating and he’s painfully aware that he makes for poor company now.

Alphinaud is the one to spot it, “What – is that a bird?”

Turning, Wyn recognizes it for what it is: a yol. And it is coming straight for them.

 _Magnai_.

Before his yol has even completely landed, Magnai’s already launching himself from the great bird’s back. There’s something primal and terrifying in the way that he frantically looks around, till his eyes land on Wyn and his eyes go wide.

“Wyn.”

He finds it difficult, then to keep back the tears he’s been holding. He barely hears Alphinaud call out his name as he runs to Magnai, throwing himself against his chest and _weeping_.

Wordlessly, Magnai wraps his arms around Wyn, pulling him tight and close. He cards a hand through Wyn’s hair, drops his head, and murmurs softly in a language that Wyn does not recognize but takes comfort in nonetheless.

Magnai’s arms are strong and warm. He holds Wyn tightly to him, despite the way that Wyn is trembling with sobs and shamelessly weeping into his chest. He smells of the familiarity of the Steppe, of sweat, like _home_ , and it’s all Wyn can do to try and hold it even slightly together.

“Let go,” Magnai says. “I’m here.”

The noise Wyn lets out can only be described as inhuman. Even coming from himself, it sets the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He lets go of the grief, of the pain; lets everything out in one seemingly unending deluge of tears.

Through it all, Magnai stands there stoically, holding Wyn tightly. The only movements he makes are to stroke his back and hair comfortingly – as one would a child. He must be tired and hurting from his own battles, yet he says nothing. He simply stands, offering Wyn what solace he can.

It seems like an impossibly long time before the tears dry up. Though he has wept and wept, Wyn still feels hollow and aching. His heart feels low, despite their victory.

Ducking his head as he pulls away, Wyn scrubs at his face, trying to remove the offending wetness, “I-I’m sorry, I don’t – I don’t know what came over me.”

“You do not need to apologize for your tears,” Magnai says, voice low and rumbling in his chest. His fingers are callused, but gentle as he cups Wyn’s face between his hands, wiping away the last of the tears with his thumbs. “You have lost a good friend today and a powerful warrior. To mourn is only natural.”

“But I…”

“Who has taught you that you cannot mourn?”

“N-no one…” Wyn bites his lip, “I just… I need to be strong. For everyone.” _I’m the Warrior of Light, after all_.

Magnai’s eyes narrow, “We will discuss this. You will not hide from me. I am strong enough for the both of us; you do not need to be so for me.”

“I…”

“Have you come to say your goodbyes? Better make ‘em quick,” Tansui says casually.

Magnai’s hands twitch, his mouth a thin, stern line. “No. I am going with him.”

Despite the ache, the pain, Wyn’s heart sings softly in his chest at the words. Magnai is coming with him. All of the doubts, the worries, the niggling fears are chased away with the surety that he speaks those few words. He will not be alone.

And… and he doesn’t have to be strong. _It’s alright_ , Wyn asks himself, _isn’t it?_ If he just… lets Magnai be strong for him? Just this once, and only between the two of them.

Magnai rubs his thumbs under Wyn’s eyes, “You are strong. You will survive this, as you have survived much more. And I will be with you now.”

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Wyn nods, “And I with you.”

Much to his slight embarrassment, Wyn spends the journey to Kugane curled up in a ball in Magnai’s lap, drifting somewhere between sleep and waking. His head rests in the crook of Magnai’s neck and his arms are warm and sturdy around him. For the first time in a very long time, Wyn feels… safe.

Somewhere in the time before dawn, where there is a gray line across the horizon, Wyn draws a lazy finger down Magnai’s neck, “You’re certain about coming with us? Leaving Othard behind?”

“I am,” Magnai replies, without hesitation. “Where you go, I will follow. Perhaps it is strange to you, but for me there was no other choice.”

“I… I still feel a little guilty. Taking you from your home, but… thank you. I’m so happy to have you with us – with me.”

Gently, Magnai tips his head back, brushing his lips across Wyn’s, “You are all the happiness I need. And I...”

“Hm?”

“I had feared I lost you.” The words tumble out, running together, and Magnai ducks his head almost sheepishly. “We circled the ruin after… but there was no sign of you. And then, by the time that we heard that the Doman had made it to the enclave, you were gone. I knew someone had been lost, but not who. And I feared like I never had before.”

Magnai’s eyes are brighter than usual when he meets Wyn’s, “Nothing will scare me more than the thought that I might lose you.”

Taking Magnai’s face between his hands, Wyn shifts until he can press his forehead to his, “I know. I’m here, Magnai. I’m right here.”

“Stay with me,” Magnai murmurs, leaning in and kissing Wyn gently. “I would be lost without you.”

“Always,” Wyn says, returning the kiss. “You have me.”

There’s little privacy on the Confederate vessel. Aside from its small cabin and belowdecks, there’s little shelter from the elements and even fewer places to steal a few moments together. But Wyn finds that he doesn’t care about his companions’ reactions – or what they may think of him. He’s perfectly content to remain precisely where he is, in Magnai’s arms.

The arm around his back tightens, pulls him closer until he’s flush against the other’s chest. This time, the kiss is firmer, lingers longer, and leaves Wyn feeling breathless and a little light-headed.

“I thought that you were dead,” Magnai admits at last. “That all of my fears had become real.”

Wyn kisses his jaw, “I’m not, though. I’m here, Magnai, I’m _right here_.”

“I know.” And Magnai kisses him once, twice. “But still, I thought… it is of no matter now, though.”

“You were worried. It’s alright, Magnai. I was worried for you, too.” He absently twines a braided lock of Magnai’s hair around his finger, then tugs it gently till Magnai leans down enough for him to brush a kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“And I you.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Words:** 1614 words
> 
> A very big special thank you to that absolutely _wonderful_ anon who sent me porn. Absolutely loved it and you should 100% post it; you have my full permission to do so! Also, I did get a couple of prompts, so I'll be working on those as well. For those wondering, you can come and [poke me on tumblr](http://graysonflynn.tumblr.com/) with thoughts, ideas, or prompts. I'm always game for being hit up with ideas!
> 
> Great big thank you and my eternal love to all of you who have loved and supported this fic series! Y'all make my day!


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